


Garbage man

by KatrinaRice



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Fluff, M/M, Might give you some non-con/dub-con vibes in the beginning, Slight Age Difference, Smut, Top Erwin Smith, crude speech, different educational backgrounds, garbage man Erwin, kind of slow-burnish, lots of swearing, primitive jokes and remarks, project manager Levi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:41:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27990912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatrinaRice/pseuds/KatrinaRice
Summary: Levi Ackerman would have never thought that he’d be lusting after a...garbage man. But here he is, waiting for every Monday like it was Christmas, to watch that big, blond, primitive, sexy hunk pick up his trash. And Levi’s disgusted with himself, but he can’t stop staring. It’s something he would never tell anyone. But his secret is about to be uncovered. Because... Has it everbeena secret?
Relationships: Levi/Erwin Smith
Comments: 24
Kudos: 104





	Garbage man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Auurii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auurii/gifts).



> Hey guys,
> 
> this fic was originally intended to be published for the "eruri big bang" - but since it was cancelled and I had already shared quite a few details with strangers about this story, I just feel the need to get it out now. 
> 
> Just to spare you a long wait: Please mind that I will not be updating this fast - I need to finish "Doll", "Blondie" and then "Guilt" and then I'll be coming back here. So if you don't want to wait but would like to read this, I suggest you put it in your bookmarks or something and wait until I crash back in here with chapter 2. I have already written the whole outline with every detail, now it's just about actually sitting down and writing each chapter down.
> 
> Thank you for your patience and your understanding!
> 
> Take care and stay safe everyone!

Levi has a secret.

Every Monday, he comes in for work at ten in the morning, instead of eight. He tells his colleagues it’s because he goes for a run with his best friend in the park. However, nothing could be further from the truth. Because Levi is not a runner. Not on a Monday, not on any other day. And what he really _does_ at the beginning of the week is something he would never even _tell_ his best friend about, who is also everything _but_ a runner; because it’s something that Levi’s utterly ashamed of and very much disgusted with – but something that he can’t stop himself from doing anyways.

It’s not a completely inappropriate act, like exposing himself in public or rubbing one out in the forest. Though it _does_ include rubbing one out; at _some_ point at least. Because Levi’s single, and even though he would never openly admit to it, he’s also very lonely – _and sexually starved_. And the garbage man, who comes to pick up his trash every Monday morning, is his wet dream come true.

And that’s the problem.

Because how _in the world_ can educated, self-proclaimed clean freak Levi fancy a dirty, dumb garbage man, who’s picking up the trash of this rotten town in his stained neon orange overall, that most probably reeks of decomposed bananas, bad eggs and moldy joghurt like all those bins do that this man is touching and emptying each day?

And how, in the _bloody_ world, can a frowzy garbage man look _so freaking hot_? Tall, blond, athletic, with piercing blue eyes, a sharp jaw and a prominent nose. With big, stunning eyebrows, a handsome smile, thick thighs, lean arms and a muscled chest that you just want to press your face against? Like a Greek statue come to life.

The first time Levi saw him, he nearly fainted right there on the street. It was right after moving into his new house just a year ago, set out to keep an eye on the local garbage men for the first time.

And that’s _another_ secret of his.

Because every Monday morning he’s not only ogling the hot, blond garbage man, but also – like he’s done at every other place he’s lived before – checking, or rather _overseeing_ his and the other men’s work; controlling his bin whether it has been emptied correctly and completely, wiping it down with cleaner and disinfectant immediately after, so that not even a single stain is left behind on the inside and outside, attracting insects and causing a rotten smell; especially in summer.

This is how Levi actually got to talk to the garbage man.

Well, maybe “talking” isn’t the correct term to be used, because Levi did, in fact, _yell_ at the blond man with those stunning blue eyes on the second week of living in his new place and thus, the second time of observing said garbage man. The reason for his yelling: That blondie, a cigarette dangling from his lips, just carelessly grabbed the bin, making a loose wrapper, probably fallen out of the bin bag, fly down to the ground, landing right in front of Levi’s little gate of his brand new row house, the first house he’s ever bought. And that made the raven-haired _furious_. 

The blond man dressed in that horrific overall turned around immediately after Levi screamed at him to watch out and pick that piece of trash up. And he immediately complied – with that stupid grin on his face you usually see teenagers pulling when they are making fun of something, or rather: _of somebody_. Of Levi. 

The garbage man’s “sorry, sir” wasn’t sincere. It was cheeky. Like a brat’s. It was mocking. But Levi trembled so hard nonetheless when the man, after picking the wrapper up and being so close to him – only a metre away – looked deep into his eyes and his bratty grin widened. And when he returned the bin, placing it right in front of Levi, taking the cigarette out of his mouth, that man grinned again in this obnoxious way. “Good day, sir,” he said, nodding faintly, once more not taking _any_ of this seriously – but the blond man’s voice was so deep and manly and _melodic_ nonetheless, Levi thought about it all day. 

Especially in the evening when he came home from work and rubbed one out, fantasising how the garbage man would take off his clothes – outside, of course, because those dirty overalls weren’t getting anywhere _close_ to the inside of his polished home – fantasising how he would lay his trained (and freshly showered), muscled body bare... _and then fuck Levi against the kitchen counter into oblivion._

Levi wanted to die right after he climaxed, shame, embarrassment and guilt as well as disgust welling in his chest. Because how, in the world, could educated, self-proclaimed clean freak Levi fancy a dirty, dumb garbage man, right? And how on earth could he possibly imagine that dirty man doing _all_ those _dirty things_ to him…?

He shook it off, told himself this was nothing, that he had been pent up because he hadn’t gotten to relax at all amidst finalising the purchase of his house, hadn’t gotten to touch himself, and the actual move had just been too stressful. He wanted to forget about it, bury it under the carpet.

One year later, however, with laying hands on his own body almost _every_ day, something Levi is extremely ashamed of, and not really having any stress worth mentioning, he _still_ fancies the garbage man. And he still fantasises about him, observing him every Monday morning. And in his fantasy that blond, dumb man still does all those _unspeakable_ things to Levi, and Levi’s _so_ ashamed of making them up in his mind that he can’t even take a look in the mirror anymore without feeling embarassed at his own thoughts. He literally _cringes_ at his own imagination. At those abominable daydreams he would never, ever confess to. To anyone. Because they are just so… _filthy_. And embarrassing. And oh my God, he needs to fucking stop.

And that’s why Levi has vowed to change his life. Get himself out there again, get a boyfriend, or at least someone to share his bed with, even though he’s never been a fan of one-night stands or relationships some people have come to call “friends with benefits”. He’s also never been in one like that. But he’s desperate because he needs to get that garbage man out of his head, who is laughing at him and at his habit of cleaning the bins with his abhorrent, dirty colleagues. Levi knows. He’s _heard_ them making fun of him. 

He also knows what _other_ kinds of jokes and remarks this blond, clearly dense blond giant laughs at, witnessing him and the other men from the garbage truck yell them from across the street to one another, falling into that barbaric kind of laughter that immediately tells you you’re dealing with uneducated _idiots_. Levi doesn’t even want to repeat those allegedly joking sentences – not even in his head. They are the sexually charged, primitive kind, which kids would laugh at without even _understanding_ them properly. They are dumb, base. Because _the_ _garbage man_ is dumb. And Levi _can’t_ lust after such an unsophisticated idiot. He has standards, for fuck’s sake.

Standards!

That’s why he’s so picky. And that’s why it takes a few months for him to actually set up a date with a man using a gay dating app. His name is Armin. He’s blond, just like Levi likes them. He could be taller, more muscular, but Armin’s got _brains_ – and that should be enough of a turn-on for him, Levi ponders as he gets dressed for their first meeting. 

They’ve talked for two weeks now. Armin’s 32, only two years younger than Levi, works as an engineer at one of the big shipping companies in town. They read the same newspapers, the same books, and they have the same problem: They haven’t had a partner in a while. A _long_ while. And they both hope that the chemistry they have when exchanging messages on their phone will be the same when they meet in real life. Though Levi is a bit astonished about Armin’s choice of location for their date. Because, in all honesty, when they had established that the place for their first encounter should be a public one, Levi was thinking about a café or bar, maybe even a park with a little bistro.

Not _Woody’s_. 

The largest gay club of their city Levi has so far not even seen from the _outside_. Because, in simple words: Levi’s not a club-goer. He’s not a dancer. He isn’t part of the stereotypical, gay, colourful partyfolk as depicted in TV-series such as “Queer as Folk” or whatever. That’s why he never goes to clubs, prefers to have a glass of wine in a fine restaurant, maybe even a shot of bourbon. He also likes to have a piece of cake and a freshly brewed tea at the town’s famous little gay café in the queer district visited by many rainbow tourists. But that’s that.

He’s not outgoing, never has been. This is why he feels so out of place when he enters the club a little after ten in the evening. It’s packed already. Packed with men. Moving, dancing, laughing together, many of them eyeing him up. Levi feels like he’s a piece of meat as he’s walking further into the location, heading for the main bar – because this is where he’s supposed to meet Armin in around fifteen minutes. And he’s feeling hurt from being physically _kicked_ out of his comfort zone. The pulsating bass of the fast electronic dance music humming in Levi’s ear, as he continues to walk towards the bar, glancing at the wide dancefloor with multicoloured disco lights darting around, revealing the swarms of dancers, the manly bodies writhing to the beat, some of them almost half-naked, some of them grinding against one another, a few pairs kissing, as they move in unison to the incessant, pumping beat.

Levi hates it.

And he loves it.

Because this is real. This isn’t some sort of porno, a fantasy, a TV-show. These are real, gay men, flirting and bickering, having fun, letting loose. Gay men looking for other gay men, men looking for love, well, mostly for sex – and Levi’s finally _among them_. Leaving that comfort zone after way too many years of keeping himself basically locked up. He’s getting himself finally _out there_ , jumping into something new. 

Something exciting. A new chapter. Something he’s never done before.

Though it isn’t necessarily exciting to order a drink at a crowded bar, the sweaty bodies of the tipsy dancers pressing into one another, as they are shouting their orders to the bartenders, who are wearing nothing but extremely tight shorts made of latex, barely covering their firm behinds, leaving nothing to the imagination. But that’s something Levi _can’t_ complain about. Oh no. However, he _can_ complain about thousands of _other_ things right now; like that unwanted body contact which he can’t escape, as he finally finds a gap at the bar between all the humans bodies, scowling as his hand finally touches the slightly sticky, wooden surface.

“Disgusting,” he mutters to himself, the bass of the new piece of music thrumming in his chest. 

That’s when another body, another man – a _tall_ man – suddenly squeezes himself through the crowd of waiting, thirsty people, occupying the tight space at the bar to Levi’s left, brushing against his arm, making Levi roll his eyes in his ongoing anger about being stuck between so many bodies already. 

And when he turns his head to glare at the man, who is nearly twice his size – Levi’s heart starts beating even faster than that energising beat of the music, and he’s starting to sweat. And not only because of the suffocating heat of the club caused by all those dancing and breathing, male human beings. But because this big man’s muscles show through the fitted, dark dress shirt. Tight, lean, athletic, sculpted muscles – strong shoulders, a broad, chiselled chest, firm and beefy arms. Muscles that definitely come from spending hours at the gym, from lifting weights and pushing yourself way over the personal limit. Muscles that make Levi’s mouth water and his knees quiver, as does the sight of the man’s masculine thighs covered by denim, the jeans accentuating the curve of this man’s incredibly firm ass, the perfume wafting over from him a pleasant surprise amidst all the weird smells of alcohol, sweat, smoke and other things Levi does not want to define. And when Levi’s gaze wanders higher, to check out the man’s face – he nearly chokes on his own spit.

Because he’s looking at neatly styled blond hair, with a greatly done undercut, big eyebrows, an aquiline nose and rosy lips. He’s looking at a face he knows so well – because it haunts him nearly everyday in his self-evoked, sexual fantasies. 

The face belongs to _him_.

 _To_ _the garbage man._

To the blond garbage man Levi just can’t stop looking at every fucking Monday morning.

And he’s _here_. 

At the biggest gay club in the city. At _Woody’s_. Wearing stunning clothes that accentuate his devilishly good physique, instead of his obnoxious neon overalls, an earthy and musky scent with a hint of spicy vanilla wafting over from the man, instead of the putrid smell of rotten trash, and he’s _right next_ to Levi, their bodies actually still touching subtly, instead of being out there on the street, many metres away from him.

And Levi can’t handle it.

He can’t handle this.

He can’t handle the fact that the man must be gay or at least bisexual – because otherwise he would not be here. Not at _Woody’s_. 

And Levi can’t handle this.

He can’t handle it.

He just wants to fucking run away. _Now._

Because it’s so freaking embarrassing, standing right next to the man he’s been lusting after for over _a fucking year_. A man to whom he has been _jerking off to_ for over a year. A man who is _so_ below Levi’s _every_ standard, that he just wants to _die_ out of shame for thinking about him _this_ way.

A man who is into other men. 

He’s into men. 

The garbage man is into guys – and all of that is just too much to handle for Levi. Too much!

Because he doesn’t want the guy to know that he is gay too. Other men have already made fun of him in the past for being a stuck-up, bourgeois, middle-class loving gay man, behaving like a traditional, fucking heterosexual. Just because Levi isn’t that sparkly twink with a bubbly personality many of his gay peers as well as straight guys would expect him to be because of his petite size and young looks despite his age. Just because he doesn’t like to drink and party. Because he’s not poofy. Because he has zero queer friends. Because he’s not... overly sexual. Because he doesn’t walk around, announcing to the world that he is gay. Because rather than wanting to fuck a lot of men, Levi is more interested in a romantic, monogamous relationship with a partner, possibly for life. Because instead of decorating his home with rainbow flags, Levi chooses a subtle Scandinavian decor. 

This is exactly why Levi doesn’t want the garbage man to see him here. He knows this guy’s already making fun of him for cleaning the bins directly after the emptying, for overseeing their work – and when the blond sees him now, here, at this club, right _next_ to him, at the bar, it’s gonna get _so_ much worse. And Levi doesn’t want it to get worse – because deep down he knows he doesn’t want to stop observing the man every Monday.

And Levi can’t handle it.

He can’t handle the fact that the garbage man is into men, too. Because this makes his own fantasies just so much more real.

And that’s scary.

That’s why he’s turning around, moving back, wanting to disappear into the crowd.

But it’s too late.

Because the bartender is right in front of him, handing him his two beers, waiting for Levi to swipe his card for payment – and that’s the moment the garbage man _looks_ at him. At Levi. And it’s too late. Too fucking late. Levi feels his penetrating gaze burning into his skin, through it, piercing his flesh, making goosebumps erupt all over his skin, every fibre of Levi’s body screaming at him to fucking run away.

But it’s too late.

The moment Levi tucks his card away, the garbage man touches his shoulder with his big, manly hand; a hand that touches bins and trash every single day and that yet feels so perfect on Levi’s body, the warmth seeping in through the fabric of his grey dress shirt, and the touch makes him look up instantly. Even if he doesn’t _want_ to. It makes Levi crane his head to gaze up into the man’s stunning, manly face.

And he instantly regrets it.

Because the garbage man is grinning at him in the most malicious way, his eyes wide with surprise and… clear mockery. 

He’s instantly bending down, that searing hot hand remaining on Levi’s shoulder, nearly covering the whole of it because of their excruciating height and size difference, making Levi’s knees quiver and his heart beat faster, all those dirty fantasies he’s thought about at least a hundred times flooding his mind, fantasies of this big hand on every part of his body, on his naked skin, of the huge garbage man manhandling him in all the right ways, in every part of his home and outside of it, bending Levi’s way smaller, slender, nearly skinny body in all the right ways, _breaking_ him. 

And instantly, utter shame and embarrassment make his face heat up, make it _burn_. And he just wants the ground to swallow him up, he wants to fucking escape – but right when the man’s mouth is right next to his ear, and another breeze of that God forbidden, great, masculine perfume wafts over from the garbage man, and his hot breath caresses Levi’s ear shell and lobe, Levi’s craving for the man to _crush him_ against his steel-hard chest, take him to the restrooms of this shitty place and stuff his cock down his throat, that Levi imagines to be at least eight inches long, making him choke and cry and gag on the hard, manly meat. 

And he’s even more ashamed of himself, _disgusted_ with his mind and bodily cravings.

And it gets worse.

 _So_ much worse.

For suddenly, the man speaks. Right into Levi’s ear. And it’s sending shivers down his spine. Pleasant ones. Horrid ones. All at once.

“It really _is_ you!” the garbage man concludes, clear amusement in his tone, “ _The prince of suburbia_! Here! Oh my God!”

The blond laughs cheekily, obnoxiously, lifts his head slightly, in order to look at Levi, wanting to witness his reaction to that obvious nickname the man, or one of his coworkers, clearly have given to him; and Levi has no idea what to think of that, this new evidence of the garbage men making fun of him. But one thing is for sure: He doesn’t want to give this blond, dumb, arrogant, good-looking jerk the satisfaction of feeling hurt or intimidated by this in any way.

But that’s exactly what he is right now: He’s intimidated. With all of those contradicting thoughts and emotions waging a wicked war inside of his tight chest, and the blond man standing so fucking close to him, actually _speaking_ to him outside of one of Levi’s super-embarassing and _greatly_ improper fantasies about someone he _shouldn’t_ even be engaging with in _any_ way. And so, instead of looking unbothered and minimally pissed off – which is usually something you may as well call Levi’s default facial expression – he looks like a deer. Fucking Bambi caught in the headlights. Or a bunny. Like a tiny bunny rabbit scared shitless by a huge predator. Pretending to be dead, while waiting for an opportunity to make a fucking run for it. But he’s trapped, by that huge hand pressing into his shoulder, that big body towering over him, pushing him slightly against the counter, blocking the way out. 

The garbage man’s still grinning in that cheeky and heinous way, as he leans down once again to hoot some more of his brazen words into Levi’s ear, his breath carrying the unmistakable faint aroma of beer and cigarettes. “I never thought such an uptight, boring man like _you_ would come _here_!” he continues to deliver his amused, cocky jabs. And Levi can’t move a muscle. He’s still that frozen bunny rabbit. “You out the closet yet? Or is your visit here a secret?”

Of course Levi’s _out_. He’s not _ashamed_ of being a gay man. Which, as stated before, doesn’t necessarily mean he has the urge to walk around, shouting out to the fucking world that he likes to be touched by tall, blond, muscular, handsome men with blue— 

That he likes men. 

That _he’s_ _into_ men.

The blond man’s grinning at Levi, once more checking his reactions. And Levi still can’t move. 

He can’t handle this.

Why can’t he handle this?

And where the hell is Armin?!

The man’s eyes dart towards the bar, the beverages Levi’s ordered. And his grin widens. “You here with your somebody?” he teases, and Levi can’t move a muscle, the garbage man’s breath once more tickling his ear, his throat. It’s disgusting.

_It’s so hot._

And Levi’s so freaking ashamed and terrified.

The blond man snickers. “You here with your boyfriend? D’you have a _boyfriend_ , huh? Are you on a date, princess?”

The man’s behaving like a school bully by the book. And memories of a really nasty motherfucker from Levi’s class move to the surface of his mind, making anger slowly flood out into his veins. 

“That’s none of your fucking business,” he seethes, his cheek almost touching the man’s, as he aims for his ear so that the blond can hear him despite the loud music. 

Seriously, why in the world did Armin choose this venue? Ah, yes. Levi remembers. Because just like him, Armin’s never been to this place, a place _like_ this, and also wanted to start a new chapter of his life… And Levi already wishes he’d never installed that dating app, bringing him here, ultimately. 

The garbage man laughs. Like that cheeky brat he is despite definitely being in his late twenties. Fucking idiot. “So you _are_ on a date,” the man states, amusement practically oozing from his voice. His deep, masculine timbre. 

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Standards, Levi. Standards!

“That’s none of your fucking business,” he repeats, wanting to grab the beers and finally flee. But he still can’t move, and that huge, blond man won’t let him, taking a step closer, pressing Levi further against the bar, his ass now pushing against wood, as the garbage man plants both of his hands onto the top of the counter, now caging Levi between his lean, muscled arms, as if he truly _was_ a bunny rabbit in confinement, that chiselled chest so terrifyingly close to Levi’s body, it’s making him feel so many funny, terrifying things.

“Mike was so right about you,” the man chants into Levi’s ear, goosebumps rippling all over the smaller man’s skin as his heartbeat picks up, “I didn’t believe it when he told me the _prince of suburbia, protector of the bins and trimmed shrubs_ , was into me – but you _so_ are.” Levi’s heart rate is picking up again, as if he was sprinting, anger at that _ridiculous_ nickname or title the man’s giving him, mixing with fear and the shock. The shock about being found out.

“I-I’m n-not, ew,” he tries to protest, unable to look the tall man in the eye who is grinning at him like those three fucking, dumb hyenas from _The Lion King_.

“You so fucking _are_ ,” the garbage man responds, his breath now _burning_ Levi’s ear, the beat of the song blaring from the speakers just as quick as his pulse. “I thought you were just obsessed with cleaning the bins, like you are with keeping your yard nice and tidy, like a model-housewife or a sixty year old retired old dude, spending the whole day waiting for fucking leaves to fall on his grass to pick them up immediately. But you’re actually staring at me every Monday, aren’t you? God, your gay ass is totally wanting me, huh?” The man’s laughing, cracking up at his own remarks, thinking he’s super-witty. And Levi’s so fucking glad that he man doesn’t know— “Oi, Mike actually told me he saw you cutting your grass with scissors when he was driving by the other day – is that true?!”

Fuck Mike.

And fuck this guy.

Literally.

No! For God’s sake. Not literally. No!

...not that this man would even _want_ to fuck with Levi. He’s clearly enjoying making fun of him. And Levi hates this. Hates the fact that instead of biting back with an eloquent remark, he’s unable to say a word. He can’t do shit. He’s still that fucking bunny, with wide eyes, ragged breath and a fast beating little heart, every fibre of his being in fucking _panic_.

Because he’s been found out.

He thought he was masking it so well, having the garbage man believe he was just checking his work, when instead he was checking him _out_.

And he can’t handle this situation right now. Can’t handle his feelings. His bodily responses. 

Levi’s panicking. Unable to move. To respond. Unable to bite back. And the man keeps on grinning. Keeps on picking on him.

“I can’t fucking believe you’re here,” he repeats, his crude voice still full of amusement. “Like, we’ve been wondering about you the whole fucking time!” The garbage man laughs, like he usually laughs at those primitive jokes and comments made by his coworkers on the street; whom he is obviously referring to right now. “We have _so_ many bin-cleaners, but you are like… Wow! You really are the _king_ of all the fucking bin-cleaners, I’ve never seen something like that before! Like the dedication, fucking amazing! And why? It’s a freaking bin, it will get dirty again the second you put trash in it. Why the fuck bother and clean it every time? Like… What the fuck?”

The garbage man is snickering, like he’s said something extremely funny. But nothing about this is funny. And usually, Levi would be able to elaborate on that, fight back, tell this man to shut and leave him alone.

But he can’t transform: He’s still that fearful, little bunny rabbit.

“And seriously, the other bin-cleaners are like, what? 60? 70? And you’re like, what? 30? What the hell?” The garbage man is having the time of his life. And Levi just wants to… “You’re so uptight, with that little front yard of yours, those symmetrical little shrubs and the perfectly arranged flowers. Pixies told me, he saw you cleaning the fugues of the little stone footpath with a fucking toothbrush, is that true?!”

Fuck Pixies.

And it wasn’t a _tooth_ brush. 

“You're probably the type to schedule everything,” the blond continues to mock Levi, his hot breath on his ear causing the black-haired, smaller man to tremble, “even screwing somebody. Am I right?” Once more, the man gives out this overly brash chuckle, and Levi’s freaking _terrified_. And so fucking _embarassed_. Because... “Like, you’re so uptight, you probaby have a _fuck_ -timetable, huh? No intercourse before ten o’clock in the evening, and you have to be done by midnight? Oh! And the lights must be switched off! And when even _a drop_ of bodily fluids lands anywhere, you immediately run to get your cleaning rag and wipe it off like a madman before going on. Am I right?”

The man has a big, fat grin on his handsome face when he looks into Levi’s eyes, once again wanting to catch the other man’s reaction. Who is still in his bunny form; shaking like that little thing trapped in a corner, knowing that there is no escape from the big, deadly predator. Aghast by the sight of those big, round eyes piercing his. Terrified of what the man has just disclosed to him in jest.

Parts of the brutal truth about Levi.

And Levi feels uncomfortable as hell.

_He can’t handle this._

And then, still caged by the garbage man’s arms, he spots him: _Armin_.

Standing right behind the tall blond man, looking at Levi with wide eyes, uncertainty painted all across his very nice-looking face; unmistakably the face of a smart man – the complete opposite of the overly primitive garbage man. The garbage man, who catches Levi’s stare, and immediately turns his head to follow it, look behind his shoulder, meeting Armin’s gaze in turn; and Levi just wants to fucking _scream_ and die and fucking run.

But he’s frozen.

Especially, when the blond garbage man turns back around to him, the grin on his face so malicious and audacious, and an arctic shiver speeds along Levi’s neck, spine and sides. Hell, it’s being chased down his whole body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“That’s your date, huh?” the blond man asks – _states_ – nearly screaming too loudly into Levi’s ear, and he flinches.

But that’s the moment he’s been waiting for: A path of escape. So Levi screams at himself, calling on every fibre of his being to finally open his mouth, wanting to hiss his reply from before into the man’s big ear, tell him that this is not his fucking business and then just push past him, grab Armin and get as far away as possible from the garbage man.

But he fails. He isn’t quick enough. He’s too late.

“Stay right here, _kitty cat_ ,” the unsophisticated hunk jeers into Levi’s ear – and that new nickname, if you can even call it that, knocks the air out of his lungs, and all strength out of his limbs.

And then everything is happening so fast, Levi can’t do anything about it. He’s glued to the spot, he can’t act, he can’t stop it, watches the garbage man walk over to Armin, and his huge and broad – and very, very sex back – is blocking Levi’s view of the two blonds obviously talking for what feels like forever and merely five seconds at the same time, more bodies coming in between them, more of the dancers and drinkers trying to reach the bar, making even the garbage man almost disappear from Levi’s sight. And then…

Then the garbage man turns back around, and he’s right in front of Levi so fast, pushing himself through the small sea of other men, that the raven-haired can’t even catch a small glimpse of Armin, who is… Where the hell is he? Levi’s trying to spot him, moving onto his tiptoes, trying to look past the garbage man – but he has no fucking chance. That lean, muscled body is just too big, too broad, too sturdy. Too hot, once again confining Levi between his two, way too strong and deliciously beefy arms, his manly chest coming way too close again, making Levi push back against the bar automatically, as far as he can go, which isn’t far at all, and he’s trapped again, the obnoxious garbage man bending down, his mouth right at Levi’s ear, and—

“Looks like _I’m_ your date now, princess,” he brazenly declares, reaching for one of the neglected beers Levi’s bought for him _and Armin_ , chugging it; downing the whole pint in one single go right in front of Levi’s wide eyes, his heart pounding so wickedly fast in his chest as if he was running a marathon, the cogs of his battered and scared and intimidated mind turning as he watches the beer disappear down the garbage man’s throat.

And then, it finally breaks out of Levi.

“Wh-What?!” he screams at the impertinent man. “What?!”

The garbage man sets the empty glass down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, getting rid of the disgusting small residue of foam smeared around his lips; that turn into this cheeky, vile grin Levi which has come to already detest so much.

“Well, I told him to jog on,” the blond then declares, “because _I’m_ the one taking you home tonight.”

The garbage man’s statement hits in like a bombshell. Obliterating everything. At least for a few seconds, making Levi’s mind go completely blank – because this is just like a scene taken out of his daily, filthy, misguided, sexual fantasies about this blond brute. Fantasies Levi never even _wanted_ to become real. And now—

Levi’s brain starts working again. Properly. Understanding that this is just another way to mock him, a way to tease him, make fun of him in this immature way; because the garbage man is nothing but a primitive, childish bully, getting off on making other people feel like shit. As if he was stuck in his teens.

And that just freaking _angers_ Levi.

“Fuck yourself!” he seethes at the man, finally able to move his body, push the garbage man away. Well, he tries to, at least. Because this hard – very hard – body he’s pushing against, the man’s wide chest to be exact, just won’t budge. And the blond snickers, leaning further against Levi, pushing him back against the bar, grinning once more like a hyena, as he tilts his head to release more of those debased words into Levi’s ear.

“No,” he rumbles, “I’m going to fuck _you_ , kitty cat.”

Levi’s pulse is skyrocketing, and the man’s repugnant grin is making his heart beat even faster. He has no idea what the hell is going on, if the man is still making fun of him – he must be! – or if that guy actually means what he says – he can’t! – and what Levi would actually think about that, if that man was being serious, which he just can’t be, and—

“You’re gonna drink that?” the man asks, pointing to the other beer Levi’s bought. For him and Armin, who is nowhere to be seen, and he feels like someone has taped his mouth shut, for he can’t answer. At all. He’s that bunny rabbit again, completely overwhelmed and scared of everything going on around him. The loud music, the loud people, the strange smells, his own, pumping heart and trembling limbs.

Scared of the blond man in front of him, leaning down again, his mouth almost touching Levi’s ear as he states, “I’ll take that as a no,” before he grabs Levi’s second beer and chugs this one as well.

It’s just as impressive as it is horribly _disgusting_.

But Levi can’t stop staring. Can’t stop waiting for this fucking twat to start laughing at him again, telling him he’s just taking a piss, making fun of how Levi sopposedly looked hopeful and how “his gay ass” was totally craving the garbage man— which isn’t a total lie, but… but… but…! Like… 

No.

No!

Standards! And…

And this is not even real!

It’s not real.

And even if it was: Levi never _wanted_ this to come true. He never— It was just a fucking fantasy. It was—

The garbage man releases a loud, pleased groan after the last bit of beer, slamming the empty glass back on the bar, his mouth right next to Levi’s ear again, murmuring, as much as this is possible, “Let’s get out of here.”

And Levi freezes up. Like a stick of ice. Like that shitty, tiny, weak, panicky, fluffy, bunny rabbit, once again faking its own death, his body rigid and stiff, immovable and yet pliant, as this brutish, blond man suddenly grabs his hand with his much larger hand, lacing their fingers, pulling Levi away from the bar, Levi’s heart pounding, fear, confusion and… and _more_ fear mixing in his chest, as the man’s literally hauling him through the club towards the exit.

And the man’s force is unstoppable. Even if Levi was able to move his own body parts, trying to rip his hand free, he wouldn’t be able to succeed. He knows. Feels it on his own body, this warm, strong hand, those long fingers laced with his, firmly clasping him, almost squeezing his hand, pulling him firmly through the masses of people, their connection unbreakable, and Levi’s not a bunny anymore – for he’s a lamb. An innocent, dumb, stupid lamb, unable to stop following the wolf leading him to his own slaughter.

Because Levi’s sure, absolute sure, this primitive man will let go of him at some point, laughing at him in this brazen fashion, continuing to make fun of him like he did in the beginning, basically laughing his (firm) ass off about that naive, little, (uptight) lamb actually thinking the blond (dumb) hunk was interested in him in any way. This bully just wanted to fuck up his date with Armin, destroy his evening – and he’s suceeded; for the other man is nowhere to be seen. And Levi’s chances at starting to date someone have been diminished, nipped at the bud. And now, all that is left, is being laughed at by this brute of an idiot. He knows.

So why the fuck can’t he run? Why the hell isn’t he protesting? Why on earth isn’t he even trying to break free? Why isn’t he yelling at this guy, scolding him, demanding to be let free?

...because there’s a part of him that hopes that all of this is real?

Is _Levi_ for real?!

They’re out, walking past the bouncers, into the summer night, and the garbage man still doesn’t let go of Levi’s hand, keeps dragging the raven-haired along behind him, leading him away from the populated mainstreet, through the tight net of side streets, towards… towards what exactly?

What is he even waiting for? What is he—

The garbage man turns around abruptly, making Levi practically walk against him, that dark, hard mass of muscles and skin, making Levi nearly yelp; and the tall man’s leering at him. And Levi knows it’s coming: the final blow of mockery. The man smacking him verbally across his cheek. Laughing at him, revealing to him that the mega-joke is over. Delivering the final strike of humiliation.

“Your place or mine?” the man asks – and Levi is fucking fabbergasted. 

And he’s nervous. And furious. And scared. And angry. And so fucking confused. And _a million miles_ outside of his comfort zone. Wishing he had stayed home tonight. With a glass of Chardonnay and a good movie on Netflix. Because everything is just so freaking overwhelming, and… and… and…!

“Wh-What the h-hell, man!” he manages to stutter. “Wh-what do you e-even w-want…?!” Levi tries to free his hand out of the man’s grip – to no avail.

The man’s grin widens at this pathetic attempt. “Aw, c’mon, kitty cat,” the garbage man then purrs, tilting his head, using that horrible, degrading pet name once more, “we’ve talked about this: I’m your date and we’re going to fuck. I mean: if it fits your sex-schedule.” The man cracks up on his latest verbal addition and Levi just… He just wants to… He just… He just…

He has no idea what is going on at this point.

This man has made fun of him since the second he saw him at the bar. He’s made it very clear that he thinks of him as a laughingstock. He’s ridiculed and offended him. So why on earth would he be really willing to… have sex with Levi?

What the actual fuck?!

And then, Levi just...

He just snaps. 

Because he’s so scared, so confused, so overwhelmed, so… _everything_.

He’s so angry at the man for making fun of him, for ruining his first date after way too many years – and he’s also very angry at himself for… kind of getting his hopes up. For that minimal part of him actually believing it could happen, wanting it to happen, wanting to sleep with the garbage man, when he’s vowed to himself that it was just a fantasy, would always _stay_ a fantasy and that he would _never_ , ever get involved with a base man like that in _anything_ close to sexual and…

And he just snaps.

Because he’s so angry at the man for just assuming he can do anything to him; that fucking bully. And he’s so angry at himself for letting the man treat him like that.

And it finally breaks out of his throat, his mouth; a hoarse outcry. Desperate and squeaky, not at all like he wanted it to come out. But Levi can’t help it.

“What _the hell_ makes you think _I_ want to sleep with _you_?!?!”

At that moment, the garbage man lets go of Levi. But only to wrap his huge hands around his wrists, using his manly, strong, heavy, trained body to walk the raven-haired backwards; until his shoulders hit the cool, brick wall behind him, and the man pushes his leg between Levi’s thighs, that hard chest pressing against Levi’s torso, as the simple man pins Levi’s hands above his head, releasing a concoction of weird and scary feelings inside of the raven-haired. And when Levi looks up into the man’s face, he sees a sassy smirk on those big lips – those big, manly lips that suddenly sink down onto his own, as the man claims his mouth, before Levi can even _begin_ to understand the man’s intent, covering his mouth with his own, drowning out any possible words Levi was just about to throw at him. And the blond is too strong for Levi to move, protest, as he’s pinning him against that brick wall with the weight of his big, tall body, kissing him deeply, thoroughly. 

And Levi can’t remember any possible time when he’s been kissed _like that_.

With the garbage man’s tongue invading his mouth, ravaging it as he explores it, tasting and teasing his lips, probing deeper with his tongue that tastes of cold beer and cigarettes and something else which Levi can’t determine, a revolting mix – and yet, Levi can’t help but to surrender to this greedy, seeking mouth; the way his body’s eagerly responding scaring Levi shitless, a thousand thoughts running through his mind, alarming voices screaming at him from the back of his head, his throat feeling so tight as if someone had put a choker around his neck. 

His lungs are on fire when the blond suddenly decides to break their kiss, bringing his face to the Levi’s neck, his hot beer-breath brushing over the sensitive skin, sending new shivers on their way down Levi’s body, he mumbles: “Your _dick_ makes me think that, _kitty cat_.” That’s when the garbage man shoves one of his hands directly between Levi’s legs, aiming straight for his crotch, those long, hot fingers pressing against Levi’s awakened cock. “Your _hard_ dick. So… Your place – or mine?”

And Levi just wants to fucking die.

“W-Why m-me?” he hears himself whimpering. And that just makes the man’s grin widen further.

“Because you’re a fucking loser,” the blond states, “but you’re totally my type.”

And when Levi wants to respond to the new insult, the man silences him with another deep kiss.

And then, Levi’s brain shuts off completely.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have devoured this already: Comments are welcome!


End file.
